we're falling through space, you and me
by Lady Shaye
Summary: His eyes meet hers, blue on brown for the very last time. And he's never even kissed her. / "I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging." / The Ninth Doctor's last moments.


Disclaimer: Um, hello? Definitely not brilliant enough. Don't have enough math and science credits to understand some of the things they contemplate on this wonderful show. And, lastly? I would have kidnapped Chris Eccleston and David Tennant _long_ before their time was up. Ooh, and Billie Piper.

Summary: His eyes meet hers, blue on brown for the very last time. And he's never even kissed her. / "I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging." / The Ninth Doctor's last moments.

Warning: Again, I am angsty, because it appears that this show has dug a deep hole and found my well of inner angst and decided to run the whole city on it, as well as my brain. I literally have been thinking Doctor Who nonstop for four days now. Seriously. I don't think that's ordinary.

Sooooo...basically, the Ninth Doctor's viewpoint as he begins to regenerate, and the love he feels for Rose is revealed. Also, though I love their kiss (his and Billie Piper's), I figured he wouldn't really think of it as a kiss, and hey, I'm operating from his way of thinking throughout this. Rest assured, in my mind, THIS IS A KISS. Because I'm a lovesick idiot. :) Enjoy!

* * *

_we're falling through space, you and me_

* * *

He wants to tell her. Oh, Rassilon, he wants to kiss her. He's never had the chance to kiss her, not really. Sure, he kissed her to get rid of the time vortex, but that wasn't a kiss, not truly, not a _loving_ kiss—it was more of a kiss of desperation, a kiss that meant life and always, always death, a kiss that's saved her life and killed him. He'll never get to kiss her and have her kiss him back, not in this body, not in this time, not in this mindset and not with this love beating in his hearts. Handholding, obviously; hugging, sure; but kissing? He's never kissed her. Never touched her romantically. They've been intimate, they've always been more-than-friends, but he's never kissed her, never held her like a lover should, never made love to her like he's wanted to for so damn long.

She's the picture of youth and innocence and purity and love, standing there in her pink sweater listening to him talk about Barcelona with the nose-less dogs, listening to him ramble on like always—because he never knows what to say to her without blurting out _be with me_ or _you're the first person that's made me feel loved in what feels like forever, and, hell, maybe it is_ or _I might just be falling for you, Rose Tyler_, so instead he just blathers on to keep any of them from slipping out—listening to him be her Doctor, like always. (_"My Doctor,"_ he remembers, and it makes him smile.)

But he might not be her Doctor anymore. (His smile vanishes, but maybe that's just the pain lacing down to his entire core and exploding, bursting, mutilating every cell in this form...maybe it's not the love aching in his heart like always.)

And he's never even kissed her. "Stay away," he warns her quickly as the unspeakable throbbing radiates throughout his body, and he wishes he could beckon her to him in spite of the fact that she can't touch him right now without causing immense pain for them both (but he cares too much about her to cause her such agony). He wishes he could tell her how much she's meant to him all along, from that first time he grabbed her hand and told her to run, to right now in the end of their story. (There will be more stories, he hopes, but not with him and her; with another him and same old wonderful Rose Tyler.) It's not the thin skin of this planet that's kept him holding on to this bloody brilliant planet with these stupid wonderful apes for so long; it's her, the best human of them all, and Rassilon knows she's better than him, too. He's kept a tight hold on Earth because she's here, she knows him, she trusts him, she _believes in him_ despite _everything_.

Instead, all he can do is call her fantastic and tell her how wonderful and good she's been to him, how wonderful they've both been. He can't tell her how he feels, because in a second, these memories will be seen through different eyes. This love will maybe, possibly be felt by two different beating hearts (Rassilon, he hopes the future him loves her just as much, and _hopefully_ more because she definitely deserves more than he can ever give her). These intentions might be replaced by an urge to dump her back home. He might be a git in the future for all he knows, but he hopes not, because he needs her with him, and he hopes the future him realizes that, respects that, reciprocates these feelings.

This sense of unknowing—and he will never be able to know, because in a few seconds he will be gone—it destroys him sometimes (but never for very long because he's doesn't have that much time left in this form), and it makes him ache inside, not knowing what will be, what shall happen out of all the different paths he's seen, what road they'll take out of all the possibilities. Sure, he'll see it come to pass (in another body with another personality and another set of emotions and beliefs and those sorts of things), but he'll never see it the same way.

His eyes meet hers for one last time—blue on brown, for the very last time, and god her eyes are so beautiful, she's always been so lovely and right in front of him and he's never even really _kissed_ her, has he—and his lips move with things he's meant to say for quite a while now. He can't even kiss her. Hell, he can't even touch her. He'd give anything for that now, just one simple last touch of their hands, that one last spark flying through his fingers and tingling up his arms and straight to his hearts, making him freeze in the middle of one of his long-winded, half-thought-through speeches and just _smile_ at her (like he always wants to).

Maybe the new him'll be smart enough to kiss her as soon as he can, but old him will never know, because this Doctor, the one that befriended Rose Tyler first over a plastic arm and talk of the planets, he's gone now. And replacing him will be someone that has a second chance with the best person alive as she's staring at him in her pink sweater and wishing to God that he'll be all right, whatever the hell this "cheat death" thing is doing to him right now.

He hopes that no matter who he changes into, she'll still believe in him and trust him and maybe, possibly, one day she'll love him. He throws his head back, feeling the energy of regeneration consume him, and he's gone. And in his place is the man that will hopefully treat Rose Tyler somewhere at least close enough to just as well as she deserves, which is utter perfection and love. Hopefully, the new him will love her. He opens his eyes, checks his feelings before his teeth. Yup. Love's still there.

_We're falling through space, you and me. And I'm falling into you, still, even in this new body. So I guess you really are that fantastic, Rose Tyler._

* * *

**_"I can feel it—the turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour. The entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour. And I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging…" -Ninth Doctor, "Rose"_**

* * *

A/N: Angsty enough for you? :) But I tried to give it a sort-of happy ending. That last bit was a glance into the tenth doctor's thoughts, of course! Because they are, like, the perfect couple. But I've always liked Nine/Rose too. In fact, it took me a long while to get into Ten/Rose, believe it or not. I love David Tennant and always will, trust me, but for a bit I clung to Christopher Eccleston because I love him so. So, this was me getting out my expressive Nine/Rose feelings. There might be more to come. I have no idea. But I hope you liked it.

Always consider giving me feedback, wonderful readers, and remember, this is not the last time I will venture into the wonderful world of Doctor Who. So I suggest you accommodate yourself and get comfortable, because this will be an awfully boring long ride that will never ever ever end. I can never live up to what Billie Piper, Christopher Eccleston, and David Tennant have given me, so. Be prepared for suckishness, piles and mountains of it.

(Also, I'm sure Matt Smith is a lovely representation of the Doctor, but given that I haven't reached his point yet, I cannot say so at this given time.)

Thank you for reading!


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